Implicit Trust
by CabaretHotSauce
Summary: Smoker and Tashigi are out on sea with the rest of their men when a storm strikes in typical New World fashion and Smoker is a devil fruit user susceptible to some waves so he falls overboard. Rated T for very mild swearing.


_One. Two. Three. Press_

 _One. Two. Three. Push_

 _One. Two. Three. Hold_

 _One. Two…don't do this_

"Furl the sails! On the double!" Tashigi's commands snapped across the deck; her pink mantle sodden to its core. The contrasting wisps of her blue-black hair clinging to the skin on her face in a desperate attempt against the howling wind and Tashigi was left reeling between what clouded her vision more – was it the relentless downpour of rain painting her view in droplets of water or the persistent shrieking of the wind lashing against her every movement or maybe it was in the way that the wind conspired with the droplets turning them into pellets whipping at every inch of exposed skin mercilessly.

A common combination on this side of the New World and Tashigi shrugged the discomfort like one would dismiss a petulant child but kept her wits about her. The sea and her might have had this dance often but she wasn't one to allow her experience to lull her into a safe cocoon. The sea was a fickle and dangerous mistress, always looking for a moment of inattention to grab you by your soul and drown you in her cold embrace.

From across the deck Tashigi spotted the familiar tendril of smoke trying to rise into the dense clouds only to end up beaten down by the hailing rain – and even the unending attempt of the downpour could not hope to drown out the confident commands of Smoker. With his every breath feet were scurrying into position, fingers gripping ropes more tightly than ever and order returning to the momentary disarray. And for a fleeting moment Tashigi's heart clenched in a wish to one day seize respect from men as easily as Smoker could.

Tearing her eyes away from the scene Tashigi continued to survey the flurry of arms and legs trying to steady the ship against bullying force of nature. Waves started lapping and licking at the deck as if the sea was having a taste of the lives aboard but Tashigi would not relent her hold on her men for anything and the sea would have to pry them from her cold dead hands before she ever let go of a single life under her command.

The navigator of the ship came from behind her and informed her to steer the ship starboard to avoid the on-coming wave from sweeping the deck clean of living souls and cleaving it in two. Tashigi hurried to the helm to order issues to whoever was steering the ship when a wave, larger than the lickings of before, materialised in front of her and gleefully threw itself onto the planks of the deck. The slosh of water nearly tripped her but her sea-legs held her steady; they'd need to escape soon before the waves grew and made graves of them all.

Adjusting her frames, she began to open her mouth-

"Vice-Admiral Smoker!" cut the fear-stricken voice of a cadet

For a short-lived second Tashigi cursed herself for her carelessness. Smoker was a devil fruit user and the earlier splash must have sapped his strength allowing the wicked sea to merrily drag his weakened body to its embrace and in the next second, "Soru", her body moved.

With practiced ease Tashigi flung herself over the railings and, before he was plunged into the ocean and the sea claimed him for herself, grasped at Smoker's extended hand. The added weight was jarring but she willed her legs to push through the growing struggle and against the whippings of the rain and wind to find respite on hard wood.

Once on deck, Tashigi promptly let go of Smoker as he stood up, roughly combed his hair out of his face with gloved fingers and in the same breath continued to bellow out orders to startled cadets. Behind him, Tashigi, without missing a beat, had already started moving to instruct the remaining marines.

This was why he had chosen her out of everyone as his right hand and Smoker allowed a smirk to grace his usually stoic features.

He remembered the flustered and straight-laced girl he was handed by the higher-ups in a vain attempt to shackle the hound he'd become and the jokes his colleagues cracked at his expense. Forced into babysitting a goody-two-shoes they'd said; but Smoker knew. Those were not the eyes of a mindless justice-swallowing follower; those eyes were all too defiant and all too demanding of him. He was the one tasked with judging her worth but she was judging his worth just as much and should he fail to meet her standards she would never give him so much as a slip of respect.

He knew that his previous associates poked fun at his decision to keep her around after her forced trial-period from the higher-ups was over but he never once regretted his choice. So he let them call her a weakling, a nobody, the first who would forfeit a war in fear and every other humiliating description under the sun while he continued to watch her practice her swings harder and longer than any man he had met; men who were supposed to be stronger than her. He watched her rise in ranks, watched her fight and grow and watched her bleed her heart out for her powerlessness in the sandy deserts – and his brows furrowed at that particular memory.

Seeing her efficiently command the men under her he knew that she had put her previous shortcomings behind her. She might not know it but the men she led respected her every order as much as his own, and in that he had no doubt. Puffing out the tarred smoke in distaste he hoped that one day her sense of self would match her conviction.

And maybe he should have been more aware that the jokes he brushed off easily were teasings that she had to endure and bear day in day out, maybe he should have schooled a few marines who found a past-time in mocking her while she struggled; but no, Smoker was never one to coddle and he did not want to tarnish her conviction by playing favourites so here they are. A gruff Vice-Admiral and his trusty Captain.

Smoker made to move below-decks and wrangle out some more marines to help on-deck when the skies above him rumbled in anger; as if annoyed that only the wind and rain were allowed to conspire with each other and make traversing the seas a nigh impossible mission. Cursing their luck, he watched as the heavens above threw a single spear of light right next to the railing where –

"TASHIGI!" – but he was too late in his warning.

The lightning had already struck her motionless and the tilting of the ship against the waves threw her overboard. As if satisfied with the damage they had caused, the rain, wind and waves stopped their onslaught of terror to give way to calm waters and sunny sky. This too was a normal occurrence on this side of the New World but the favourable weathers felt as though they were mocking him now and jeering at what had just occurred.

In his haste, Smoker grabbed a random marine by the scruff of his neck and threw him into that laughably calm sea and ordered roughly "bring her back!" before the marine could process what was happening.

An eternity or less passed before the marine he had hastily thrown had made it back on deck with an unconscious Tashigi slumped over his shoulders.

The doctor came then, looked at her, and gravelly said to put her down where she was. Pushing against the gathering crowd of marines around Tashigi, now that the serene weather warranted no active hands, Smoker stood by and watched as the doctor tore her shirt and put his ear to her bared chest.

In the next second the doctor clasped his own hands above Tashigi's unmoving chest and – pressed down firmly, once, twice, thrice, over and over and over and

–

And Tashigi should get up now, the chest compressions jerking her limbs giving the illusion of a moving body but she wasn't moving.

The ship was collectively holding its breath and Smoker caught himself short of breath too. He gave Tashigi's still body a once-over, noting down her sword held in place at her hip and the way her complexion was taking on a dull grey colour; off-handily he noted that her frames were nowhere to be found. Leave it to Tashigi to lose her source of clear vision but tightly grasp at her swords. He continued to note her charred clothes, she won't be happy with that once she's awake, and the way her hair was singed around the edges, maybe a haircut was in order, and –

His thoughts crashed in on itself when he saw the doctor ease up his movements and turned to inform him that "I'm sorry Vice-Admiral, the Captain is no more. The lightning must have stopped her heart and we didn't make it in time."

In a mad dash, Smoker ignored is men and dropped to his knees in front of Tashigi and angrily started pushing at her chest. This was not how his protégé was going, damn it!

One. Two. Three. Press

One. Two. Three. Push

One. Two. Three. Hold

One. Two…don't do this

Smoker could feel every bone at her ribcage protest earnestly at his shoves and they felt brittle. He felt that with a bit more force and they'd collapse under his compressions; and was she always this small? Did she always feel this fragile? Mindlessly he thought that maybe he should have forced her to eat more or bulk up more muscles….but what good did maybes and what ifs do?

It was always her eyes that held strength in them; proudly displaying her mettle while cunningly hiding her lithe body. Those damned eyes always hidden behind a frame or two and only now did Smoker notice that he was biting so hard on his lips that blood dripped from them onto Tashigi's chest as he continued the compressions. The blood mixed with the continually bluing skin painted such a gruesome image that Smoker felt the sudden urge to wretch out what he'd had for lunch onto the wooden planks but doing so meant that he'd have to stop the compressions; so he swallowed the bile and continued with his movements "wake up you stupid woman!" Smoker rasped then.

He felt the crack of a rib as he pressed down too hard, but that can be healed so long as she wakes up damn it! Another crack and another push when, suddenly, harrowing cough tore from Tashigi's lips –

Smoker watched entranced as her chest heaved up and down, as her eyes blinked open and close and her choked wheezing was probably the most melodic thing he'd ever heard. Smearing the blood from his lips away he hadn't even realised that he was laughing loudly, not in a simply relieved way to wash away his momentary grief and lapse of emotion, but in a heedless way as though he was not in control of his own reactions and all he could manage to do was laugh and laugh until he could grasp at his own thoughts; until he could put a halt to the numbness that had seized him since the moment he watched the lightning strike.

Forcing air into her struggling lungs Tashigi callously rolled onto her side and coughed out sea-water and bile until the pain of it all had her eyes clenched in tears, trying to hold herself still so the pain would relent if even for a second. Numbly she registered a haunting laugh uncharacteristically spilling out of Smoker's mouth but the pain at her chest grabbed her fleeting awareness and demanded angrily to be paid attention to.

Wincing in pain, Tashigi absent-mindedly clutched her tattered shirt to her body and attempted to get up. Smoker had finished his delirious laugh and stood up with her. Putting an arm around her shoulder and placing her arm around his own neck for her support they began to studiously trek their way to Tashigi's bunk room.

Shouting to his men he ordered them to 'Stop gawking and go to your damned positions. I want the deck clear of all mud and dirt and it better be shining by the time I make my way up later'.

They finally made their way below-decks and into Tashigi's room. It was as clean and organised as always. Finished paperwork in the third drawer for when they docked, unfinished reports neatly strewn on the desk, clothes folded in a make-shift closet at one end and a smoothly made bed at another end. Smoker let her walk to her bed alone while he rummaged for bandages and plasters from the doctor that had followed them.

Closing the door to her room he turned around to see that Tashigi had gone to her washroom. Grabbing a bottle of water from her bedside he moved to the washroom. Opening the door, he was greeted by the grating sound of his subordinate's scream 'Smoker-san get out!'. And his gruff answer 'stop shrieking woman, you need bandages'.

Pushing her embarrassment down along with the clawing cough she took the bandages from him and began to work on her ribs. Anyone else and Smoker would have called in the doctor but a well-kept secret between them was that Tashigi was well-versed in broken bones and the different ways to set them; courtesy of her younger training regimens. Smoker walked out of the washroom to allow her to do her work in peace.

After an hour, he saw her come out in changed clothes. She was now wearing a tank top and the bandages peaked out from beneath it. But most of all her hair was now short; she had sloppily cut off the burned edges.

"Smoker-san, sorry for the trouble I caused" she spoke while at attention and relaxing her posture she continued "I won't allow it to happen again!"

"You'll have light training for the week but I'll double it on you for the weeks to come. You need to get stronger! The short hair is more practical than that annoying long mane too." answered Smoker in the only tone he knew. Some might call him cruel for cornering her straight after a near-death experience but then again, they never knew her like he did and smirking on his way out he knew she'd gladly take on the challenge he'd thrown her way –

Those eyes were burning for more!


End file.
